I have been a nurse since 1993. I enjoy a great many aspects of my chosen career. But alas, there has been one issue which has plagued me since I started nursing.
I hate scrubs.
The hate started when I worked for a hospital. That hospital forced all of the nurses to wear ugly white unisex scrubs. The problem was that after the first wash they were never really white again. They were an ugly, dingy, ghetto white.
After I quit that job I remember looking at those horrible scrubs hanging on my laundry room door and saying, “I don’t care what I have to do, or where I have to work, but one thing I can tell you is that I will NEVER. EVER wear something that ugly again in my life.”
I transitioned into home health from the hospital and most companies let me wear my own clothes. I took that freedom to the absolute limit. I would not only wear nice clothes to my patient’s houses but I would also accessorize each and every outfit. My patients enjoyed my fashion sense and I enjoyed dressing up for them.
Recently the company I work for asked me to wear scrubs. I understood why they wanted it but really, was it necessary?
It was necessary because I was doing home health out of several facilities and I needed to be set apart. I told the marketing director who broke the news to me that “I don’t do ugly,” but I would submit to her request and go get some scrubs.
I sorted through racks and racks of scrubs and picked out some royal blue ones. Royal blue is the signature color of my company. I not only picked out a pretty shade of blue but the fabric blend on my scrubs feels like silk. Actually it is difficult for me to pull them off at the end of the day. I adore these scrubs more than any other item in my fashionable closet.
It took a spirit of submission for me to succumb to something I had once hated. In the same way I have learned to submit to my heavenly Father in new ways. I have learned to live in accordance with His word.
It is interesting the response I have received from some of the men I have dated. I have been told that my vow of celibacy was a psychological problem. One man said that other women had told him that my decision to keep our relationship sexually pure was just wrong.
I realize that my act of submission to God’s laws is a way of setting me apart from the masses. For if we as Christians are no different from those who do not know God, how are people to know we are different?
I don’t do this in arrogance but rather humility because it took me so very long to come to this path. There are times when I yearn for the garment of promiscuity which used to clothe me. Yet the garment of righteousness is one which comforts me and gives me clarity of thought. The rags of promiscuity not only broke my heart but also the heart of others.
It is interesting that the color of the scrubs is royal blue, yet the garment of righteousness is worn only by a daughter of the most high King. I have shed the rags of promiscuity for a garment of righteousness. Which garment are you wearing today?